


Lift Me From The Ground

by DemonDean10



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Sam Wilson, Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, Getting Together, HYDRA sucks, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Sam Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Post-Endgame, Protective Sam Wilson, Rescue, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sambucky is endgame, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: Post-EndgameSam and Bucky are sharing a flat together and working for Shield, fighting the good fight. In an effort to recover memories Steve could not help him with, Bucky meets someone and is reconnected with a forgotten part of his past. And as happy as Sam is for his best friend, he can't help but feel like he is losing him.And he just might before it's all over.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Okoye, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri, James "Bucky" Barnes & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Lift Me From The Ground

**Author's Note:**

> hiya, this is my first fanfic for this fandom. yay.   
> i hope someone likes this. please.

Bucky tread through the dark hallways of the underground base, the sounds of the fight on the surface coming from his earpiece. Sam and the Strike team were dealing with all the Hydra operatives, while Bucky sneaked in from the side to obtain their target: Alien technology stolen from the ruins of the Avengers Compound after the fight with Thanos, because Hydra couldn’t take a fucking break from being evil pieces of shit. 

Bucky had insisted on fighting on the surface, but Fury had denied him, saying that he was likely to find some guards down below too. He’d yet to find a single one. 

Sam seemed to be enjoying himself, throwing the shield at people just a little bit too often. Not that Bucky could blame him; it had taken Sam a while to get the hang of the damn thing and Bucky had been just as proud as him when he finally caught it. 

The supersoldier kept on following the map on his Shield-issued Starkphone (And didn’t that strike a nerve), eager to bump into someone he could punch. He’d gotten rid of violence in his life while in Wakanda, but then Thanos had attacked and he’d been conscripted all over again, then Sam had been made captain and would need a protector- Bucky just wasn’t made for peace. 

Besides, if one could punch a Nazi, one should punch a Nazi. 

It wasn’t until he reached the thick metal door that led to the vault where the alien weapon was being kept (Not a problem for his vibranium arm), that he got his chance. They appeared from behind him, hoping to startle him, but Hydra had done their job well when training him- nothing could sneak up on the Winter Soldier. 

Bullets soared above him as he dropped to his knees, drawing a small handgun. A soldier howled as a bullet pierced his knee and another dropped his weapon as his shoulder was hit. Moving closer, Bucky drew one of his many knives and slashed at arms until another two guns were dropped. The next soldier fell after a kick to the neck and the last one was kneed on the chest then struck across the head. 

Six soldiers out. 

The Winter Soldier would have killed them, but Bucky was skilled enough that he could incapacitate any enemy without killing them. He didn’t kill people anymore, he refused to. Sam understood and Fury tolerated it, if only because Bucky could incapacitate him too. 

The comm crackled to life. “ _ Everything okay down there? _ ” Came Sam's voice. 

Bucky slammed his fist through the metal door, “Nothing to worry about, Cap.”

“ _ Still not sure how to feel about that. _ ”

“Deal with it.” Bucky muttered as he slipped through the hole he’d made, narrowing his eyes at the room. “Uh, Sam?”

“- _ take that, asshole! Yeah, Buck, what is it? We’re about done up here.” _

“The thing’s not here.”

_ “...what? _ ”

“The alien thing, the weapon. Not here.” The room  _ looked _ like a vault, all grey and metal, but it was completely empty. He ran his hands over the walls and ran his eyes over every crevice; there was nothing that could hold a valuable. 

“ _ You absolutely sure?” _

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m sure. Our intel was wrong.”

Just as he finished speaking, the room lit up in a red light and metal walls rose up from the floor, enclosing him inside the vault. Instantly, he fell into a defensive position and got his gun back out.

The new walls shimmered and a hologram appeared to his right.

“Evening, soldat.” The silver haired man said, sounding amused. “I’m afraid your intel  _ was _ correct, just not as you suspected.”

Bucky frowned. He knew that voice, but couldn’t place it. No doubt this person had been a handler of his once, or worked for one of his handlers and was now trying to step up the ladder. Great.

He heard nothing but static from his earpiece, which didn’t surprise him. Hopefully, Sam would realize what had happened. 

“I am Anatoli Voronkov. We’ve met before. I don’t expect you to remember.” The man said condescendingly. 

But Bucky  _ did _ remember. Anatoli had been a snot faced boy, always a step behind his boss. He’d stood in corners as the Winter Soldier trained Russian spies (A vicious red haired spy amongst them), with hunger in his eyes. He was a creep, as Sam would surely call him. He said nothing. 

“You have been away from Hydra’s reach for too long, soldat. I am here to fix this. I will bring you home.”

Bucky scowled, hands clenching around his weapon. Still, he didn’t speak.

Anatoli appeared disappointed. It was clear he wanted the Asset to play along with him, but Bucky hadn’t been the Asset for some time now. 

“Tell me.” The man kept going, “How does Shield-” At this, he grimaced. “-treat their weapon? Do they reward you as we did? Do they punish you when you fail?”

The Winter Soldier failed, Bucky never did. 

“Are they afraid, soldat? That you cannot be controlled? Where do they hold their weapon? Where do you  _ sleep _ ?”

In a huge mattress with five pillows. Bucky rolled his eyes, eager to show his annoyance. Was this man just going to bother him until he gave himself up to Hydra? Even as Anatoli kept on asking rhetorical questions meant to upset him, he examined the room with keener eyes than before, eventually finding the projectors showing the hologram. Two shots and the annoyance before him would disappear. Hopefully, he would be able to burst out of the room before Hydra pulled any more moves. 

It wasn’t a very well thought out plan, but planning wasn’t his forte. It wasn’t anyone’s forte, really. Certainly not Cap’s, both Rogers and Wilson. Punks. 

“Soldat? Oh, is my Asset afraid to speak?”

Right, the man was still talking. Bucky refocused on him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. Afraid to speak, his hundred year old ass. “Bored, actually.” He drawled, making a show of lowering his weapon. 

Anatoli clearly didn’t appreciate his precious Asset not treating him as a threat. He glowered and hissed, “You will not be bored when you are back in the chair, soldat. I will pull the switch myself. You are mine,  _ Winter Soldier _ .” 

The supersoldier smirked as his ears picked up Captain America’s voice from beyond the walls, shouting something about explosives. He stood up and cocked his gun. 

“My name’s Bucky Barnes, bitch.”

The wall to his back was blown away at the same time he took out the projectors and Sam jumped inside, weapons at the ready. 

“Uh, were you alone in here this whole time?” He asked, looking relieved. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was just about done with Nazis for the day. 

Bucky turned to him with a shrug, “Practically. Nobody worth mentioning.” Fury would want the name, of course, but Anatoli Voronkov wasn’t a threat. No way. 

Sam nudged his shoulder as they walked back out through the hallways. “I heard that last part.” He grinned, “‘My name’s Bucky Barnes, bitch.’ That was good! I’m proud of you.”

Bucky was proud of himself too. Not too long ago, the name Bucky would have been unrecognizable, but it had come back to him and he was not letting it go again. 

Sam kept on prattling by his side. “That could be your catchphrase. Burst into a room, ‘I’m Bucky, bitch.’ Shoot a nazi, ‘Shot by Bucky Barnes, bitch.’ Do a flip…”

Bucky shook his head with a small smile. Maybe peace would have been nice, but he’d take moments like these over anything else in the world. 

* * *

“Hey, Barnes!” Sam’s voice came from inside their flat, “I thought I asked you to do the laundry this week.”

Bucky took a drag of his cigarette, looking to the city from their balcony. (They had a balcony! Not a fire escape, a balcony!) “Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry, Sam. I’m just so unaccustomed to having clothes that belong to  _ me _ because Hydra-”

Sam put his head through the door, looking unamused. “You can just say your lazy ass didn’t want to do the laundry.”

Bucky smiled in the shadows of the night, “That would be a lie.” He lied.

Sam muttered insults at him as he came out into the balcony, then made a face at the smell. “You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Bucky just took another drag. “I didn’t smoke for seventy years, I have to catch up.”

“I really wish I could say those things will kill you.” Sam said, leaning his back against the railing and looking upwards in faux despair. 

Bucky blew the smoke on his face, “Don’t be rude.”

They didn’t speak for a while. 

Sam turned around to lean his elbows on the railing and cleared his throat. “Just got off the phone with Sharon.” He said lightly. “Mission report and all that.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement. 

“...she’s nice.”

Bucky hummed once again. 

Sam sighed at him. “Y’know, I wouldn’t be opposed to you seeking a, a  _ friend _ .”

Bucky frowned at him, “I have friends. I have Shuri, T’Challa, Okoye, Wanda,  _ you _ .” 

“No, I mean-” Sam sighed again. “A partner, a  _ girlfriend _ !” So much for not offending Bucky’s forties sensibilities. 

Bucky choked on his cigarette. “What?”

Now Sam was blushing,  _ great _ . Why did Bucky have to make everything so damn awkward? “Yes, girls. I’m talking about girls. Hell, I’m talking about Sharon. She’s nice, she’s a badass, she’s-”

“Peggy Carter’s great niece? Steve’s old flame? An agent for an organization that used to be controlled by Hydra?”

“...yeah, okay.” Sam murmured. “But still, if you ever want to get with a girl-”

“I won’t.”

“I’m just saying, it’s good to get back out there-”

“I won’t get with a girl.”

“I know you think you can’t because of your past and that’s okay, but-”

“I’m gay.”

“Yes, but- wait...oh.” 

Bucky stared as Sam put his head on his hands, groaning. “Is, is that okay? I’m pretty sure it’s legal now-”

“No, no!” Sam spoke up quickly. “It is! And of course it’s okay, man. I’m just embarrassed ‘cause I assumed- well, Steve told me you were quite a ladies’ man back in the day.”

Bucky smiled, proud. “Again,  _ illegal _ . I had to keep up appearances.” His smile fell and his brows furrowed, “I don’t think I ever acted on it…” His memories were all fuzzy. In truth, while he’d recovered much of Bucky’s life, anything that didn’t involve Steve in one way or another was still blank. Occasionally, he would get flashes or feelings, but nothing concrete. There was no one who could help him with those parts except himself, and he wasn’t helpful at all.

Sam shook his head at the ignorance of the times. “Well, if you ever want to get with a guy and, y’know-” He waggled his eyebrows, “-that’s cool. I support you. I’ll stop chatting you up to the girls in forensics.”

Oh, so that’s why they crowded around him. Bucky put off his cigarette and put his metal hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Thank you, Cap.” Not that he would act on it, but it was nice to know that he would be allowe-  _ accepted _ .

Sam’s soft grin was replaced with a grimace, “Yeah, still on the bench on that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’ve got to accept the name if you want to keep throwing around that shield like a maniac.” He turned to go back into their home.

“Hey! Who’s being rude now?”

“I said what I said.”

* * *

A week later found Bucky sitting in the library at the new Avengers Compound, scouring books about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. He’d asked for them specifically, hoping that even amongst all the lies and rumours, something real would pop up and trigger a memory. His sixth journal was beside him, already running out of pages. He wrote everything down: old memories, new moments, feelings, and dislikes. Anything that created a personality, that created a  _ person _ .

He’d just finish jotting down a detail about Dum Dum and Denier that seemed familiar, when a deep voice startled him. He jumped and grabbed the knife strapped to his thigh. 

“Woah.” The man that had appeared in front of his desk said. “Sorry, please don’t stab me.”

Bucky ran his eyes over him, taking in the pronounced muscles and tanned skin. The man’s blonde hair was cut short and the way he stood spoke clearly of a military upbringing, although he was wearing a scientists’ uniform. His Shield tag named him ‘Bueller.’ Why did that sound familiar? Bucky shook his head and lowered the knife, unconsciously lowering his gaze to show he was not a threat. “No, I’m sorry.” He muttered. No one outside the Avengers ever approached him, apart from Fury and Hill, and now he’d gone and fucked up his first interaction with a new person. 

But Bueller didn’t seem bothered. “My bad, don’t stress about it. Sorry about the stab thing, I was joking.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed. 

Bucky looked back up at him, confused. “Can I help you?” He asked the man. Sam said being polite gets you new friends and having friends was a good thing. So far, Bucky could count his friends on the palm of one hand. 

“You’re Bucky Barnes.” The man stated, rather obviously. 

Bucky held back a sigh. “Listen, if you want to hear a story about Captain America-”

“No, no. That’s not it at all.” The man hurried to say an stepped closer. 

Bucky stared at him.

The man coughed. “No, I actually wanted to talk about you.” He gestured at the sitting man, “You’re a legend.”

Bucky tensed. Was this man talking about the Winter Soldier?

The man kept going, “I mean, Captain America’s best friend: a queer man!? You’re an inspiration!”

Bucky blinked and relaxed only slightly. “You know about that?”

The man grabbed a chair and dragged it over, sitting on it happily. “Yeah! I learned all about you from my great uncle, Charles Bueller? He owned the Staccato bar in the thirties? You used to go dancing there!” He exclaimed.

Bucky fell back against his seat, gaze going blank. 

_ He was dancing, hair in disarray and shirt unbuttoned at the top. The man that swung him around was another soldier, smiling for the first time in a while. The band was playing at top volume, the singer wailing into the microphone.  _

_ Then he was the one on stage, sitting at the piano with his skilled fingers running across the keys. He was laughing, happy amongst men like him. A sailor winked at him and he winked back. They were safe, they were free.  _

Bucky blinked his eyes, gasping softly. “Yeah.” He breathed. “I did.” He looked up at the concerned looking man and said, “I didn’t remember that!” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. 

“My cousin owns the place now.” Bueller said to him, “Maybe you’d like to go? Scoop out the old digs?” He smiled invitingly. 

Bucky’s gaze shuttered off in shame. “I’m not very good with crowds.” He whispered. 

“It’s closed tonight; Hannah is repainting the bar. I could show you around if you like, or rather- you could show me!” He seemed very excited at the prospect. 

Bucky swallowed and thought about it. He didn’t know anything about the man in front of him, had never ever seen him around. But his heart lit up when he thought about Charles and the Stacatto and if this descendant was a guide to more memories…”Okay.” He said, finally looking at the man in the eyes. 

The man blinked in surprise, “What, really?” 

Bucky nodded, shoulders still tense. “Yeah, I...I’d appreciate that.”

“Awesome, it’s a date!” The man stood up from his chair like a champion. Then he frowned, “My name’s Alan, by the way. Sorry, I completely skipped over that.”

Bucky offered his right arm with a thin but genuinely quirk of the lips, “Nice to meet you.”

The man shook it, almost too excitedly. “Honoured. I get off at five, I’ll see you there at six?”

Bucky agreed. 

Alan walked away with a smile, muttering nonsensically about dates and supersoldiers. 

Said supersoldier let out a breath and grabbed his pen and journal. He had a date, how about that?

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments! and kudos!  
> come talk to me about anything marvel in tumblr @freddiemercurycalledmeataco


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